All of Life Changes
by TidalDragon
Summary: AU. Sirius stays as James and Lily's Secret Keeper. How will this single change affect the world? Rated M for later content. Reviews appreciated greatly. Chapters 3 and 4 updated to reflect a major plot change.
1. Change One Thing

All of Life Changes  
By: TidalDragon  
Summary: A/U. Sirius stays as James and Lily's Secret Keeper. How will this single change affect the world? Rated M for later content.

Chapter 1 – Change One Thing

"James, just think about it! Who would ever suspect Wormtail as being keeper of anything? Honestly mate bloody hell! It's Wormtail!" Sirius Black yelled at his best friend James Potter and his wife Lily. He had been trying unsuccessfully for the last three and half hours to persuade the Potters to change their choice of Secret Keeper to someone more unassuming. James ran his hand through his hair in exasperation. Lily looked between her husband and Sirius. The tension in the conversation had escalated with the rise in frequency and lethality of the attacks by the dark wizard, Lord Voldemort and his loyal soldiers, the Death Eaters. With the rise in danger, Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, as well as leader of the underground resistance, the Order of the Phoenix, had suggested that James and Lily take their infant son Harry and go into hiding under the Fidelius Charm. Though the choice to do so had not been an easy one, it was a cakewalk compared to trying to decide who their Secret Keeper should be.

As an awkward silence permeated the room, Lily was the first to speak. Looking once more towards James, who now pacing about the room, she rose and addressed Sirius. "Sirius, I know you mean well. But this is something James and I need to discuss for a moment in private." James nodded. 

"Just give us a few minutes in the kitchen Padfoot. After that we'll give you an answer," he finished, glancing back at his longtime friend and fellow Marauder before following his wife through the pocket door that led into their kitchen. As Sirius plopped down in one of the chairs in the Potters' living room, he saw the door slip shut and heard the click of the lock.

"Alright Lils, you've practically just sat there and let me and Sirius argue about it all for the past three hours," James began, pacing the kitchen and grabbing a flask of Firewhiskey from the cabinet to drink. After taking a deep drink of the burning liquid, he approached his wife, brushing a lock of hair away from her face. "I…Lily…I don't know what to do," he started again, kissing her softly on the mouth and stroking her face. "Tell me what you think, Lils. For Merlin's sake, tell me what to do." 

Lily eased back from James' embrace, looking into her husband's eyes. Where she usually saw determination and solidarity in those hazel orbs, she saw them clouded with fear and doubt. James needed her. After six years of fighting and their amazing romance that began in seventh year as Head students, Lily never doubted that she needed James, no matter how strong she wanted the world outside their home to believe she was. James had also been so brash and independent though, and even though she knew he loved her dearly, despite their wedding, despite everything, she caught herself wondering whether he needed her as badly as she needed him. The look she saw reflected in his eyes told her everything she needed to know. James needed her. He had to decide between two of his closest friends. He had to decide who he trusted more. Personally, she didn't agree with James and Sirius that another of their fellow Marauders, Remus Lupin, was the spy that Dumbledore had warned them about. Had the unfortunate shadow of his being a werewolf, not been cast on the situation, she felt that Remus would make the best Secret Keeper. She knew however, that James would hear none of that. James' stare broke Lily from her inner thoughts. She knew it was time to speak. "James, love…I…" Lily faltered over the words she was about to say. Was it possible that she thought Peter Pettigrew would make a better Secret Keeper than Sirius? Before the name escaped her mouth however, something inside her, a nagging feeling in the back of her mind stopped her. No. Pettigrew wouldn't be. Whatever his family's background, Sirius had been loyal to James for as long as she could remember. And from what she knew, he had been through far too much with his family's ostracism to be the spy himself. Sirius, serve Voldemort? It was impossible. 

"What is it Lils?" James coaxed, his hazel eyes trained on Lily's brilliant green ones. Finally, Lily spoke again. "I…Sirius, James. You're right. It has to be Sirius."


	2. Finally a First Year

Chapter 2 – Finally a First-Year

"Harry James Potter!" yelled Lily as she grabbed a napkin to wipe the large a large mess of jelly off of her face. Lily had gone to bite into the last of the biscuits from breakfast and the jelly had literally leapt out of the biscuit and onto her face. As Sirius sauntered into the kitchen in the middle of Lily's shriek he bolted for the stairs along with her. Sirius beat Lily to the steps and tried to block her path, but she glared at him and elbowed Harry's godfather hard in the ribs. Sirius slumped down the first few steps holding his gut tightly, but managed to shout to the eleven year-old boy upstairs "She got me! Run for your life!"

Harry dove into his closet, trying to hide behind his clothes and broomstick, just as he had when his mum had chased him for as long as he could remember. Shocks of his unkempt raven-colored hair fell across his face as he huddled in the farthest corner he could reach. Whenever folks visited, they always compared the young wizard to his father. He had inherited the trademark lopsided grin, the untamable hair, and most importantly the sense for mayhem and mischief that had made his father one of the greatest pranksters in the history of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. When he though about it, the only thing Harry noted that really drew comparisons between him and his mum was his emerald green eyes. Those were unmistakably Lily's contribution to the eldest of the four Potter children.

As his mother stormed through the house searching for him, she eventually found the other three children, Chelsea, Alexandra, and Andrew chasing each other in the yard. For awhile at least, Harry had been the only child. The twins, Chelsea and Alexandra, had been born three years after Harry, and Andrew had been born only a year after their arrival. Chelsea and Alexandra were much like Harry, heavily bearing the likeness of only one of their parents. The girls were a spitting image of pictures the family had of their mother, Lily, at their age. The two did seem to bear a single contribution each from their father however, as Alexandra had inherited James' lopsided grin, and Chelsea had inherited his stubbornly untamable hair. Fortunately for Chelsea, with her hair being long, she could generally clean it up into a ponytail or, on the rare occasion she wore it down, into a semi-groomed mass of wavy red. If the first three children had been mirrors of only one of the parents, the balance was clearly found in the youngest child. Andrew Potter had taken after Harry and James in the hair department- unkempt and raven-colored, and also sported his father's eyes. However, when it came to the rest of his face, the youngest of the Potter children was undeniably Lily's as he had been born with his mother's smile, smaller nose, and light freckles.   
"You three stop this instant!" Lily barked at the three younger children. "We're taking your brother to board the Hogwarts Express and you had better keep those clothes looking nice!" Chelsea and Alexandra glanced at their brother, picking him up off the ground, and began walking towards the house to prepare for the trip. Meanwhile, Lily decided it was time to get Harry out of his hiding place. She had known for years that he always ran to the back of his closet whenever he was in trouble for a prank, but she liked to let him think that she had no idea where he was. Her son was getting older now though. "I'm not going to deal with him hiding from his punishment anymore. Harry is old enough to know better," she thought to herself and she quietly opened the door to his bedroom. Harry's room was decorated in the colors of his favorite Quidditch team, Puddlemere United, and the walls featured numerous posters of the team's stars and their signature formations. Hanging on the back of his door was a rough piece of parchment detailing the team's schedule for the upcoming season.

Harry shrunk back into the corner of the closet as his mother slid open the door. "Come on out young man. I know you're in there," Lily stated tersely. Harry could see her eyes through the clothes and knew that she meant business. Crawling out from behind the clothes and picking himself up off the floor, Harry looked sheepishly at his feet. "Sorry mum. Is it time to go yet?" Just as Lily was about to answer, James burst into the room. "There you are son! We have to get King's Cross Station! The train will be leaving in a little under an hour," he said excitedly. As he turned toward his son, James' eyes fell on his wife, a sight at which he visibly stiffened, given the morning's events. "An hour?!?" Lily exclaimed. "James Potter, you better have everything…" she began, pacing the room the room frantically in search of Harry's belongings. James slowly approached his wife, knowing how difficult it was going to be for her to send her first child away for almost an entire year to start at Hogwarts. As Lily walked back towards him, he stroked her shoulder and held her in place. Lily began to struggle, muttering to herself about forgotten items, until James spoke. "I've already taken care of everything Lily Flower," he replied tenderly. "Let's get in the car and head off for the station, the other three are already waiting."

Once the family arrived, they realized that they were one of the last families to get their children to platform nine-and-three-quarters. Coaxing Harry toward the barrier, James put his hand on his son's shoulder. "Remember, just run on through Harry, just like we told you." Harry stared at the clock on the wall above him. 10:56. As he started his mad dash toward the wall with all his belongings, Harry heard his mother call out to him. "Harry! Remember we all love you! Write me. And I'd better not hear about any pranks!" Harry burst through the barrier seconds later, ready to begin his first year at Hogwarts, an event he had been looking forward to since his dad, Sirius, and Remus Lupin had regaled him with stories of the mischief they got into at the school. Thinking of what he might be able to do, Harry's thoughts fell on his mother's last words. Handing his luggage off to one of the older students helping to load the train, Harry smiled. "No pranks?" he asked to no one in particular, and grinning mischievously, he bolted off to find his friends with one thought in his mind. "Yeah right."


	3. And Then There Were Four

A/N: After a lot of deliberation (and finally finishing all the work piled upon me by my esteemed University) I decided to change the story a bit. Holding that Neville would likely have had a different experience living with his parents as well and given that Remus would probably still be reluctant to marry let alone have children, I decided to embolden Neville a bit (a la Book 5) and make him the other of the original three. Hopefully it should work out better.

Chapter 3 – And Then There Were Four

As Harry searched the busy platform for his two friends, his eyes fell on a pack of red-haired boys near the train. From what Harry could see, it looked like two of the boys were getting a stern talking to from their mother. Harry's father, James had told him that if he saw a large pack of red-heads, then he would know for sure it was the Weasley family. James had worked with the father of the Weasley children, Arthur on countless occasions as part of his job at the Ministry of Magic. He had never met any of the children though, and silently wondered what they were like, and why their mother was yelling.

Turning away from the family for a moment, Harry began searching the heads in the crowd, looking for tell-tale signs of his best mates, Stephan Black and Neville Longbottom. The two boys were the same age as Harry and the three of them had been friends for as far back as any of them could remember. Stephan was the son of Harry's godfather, Sirius Black and his wife Cassandra, and had a mixture of his parent's looks. Sirius had clearly given Stephan his black hair, which was at times almost as unkempt as Harry's, as well as a roguish smile that made the young boy almost always appear as if he were up to something. Stephan didn't have the ability to look quite as dark as his father did however, as he had inherited softer traits from his mother's side, like his clear blue eyes. Unfortunately for all adults concerned, Stephan had, like Harry, inherited his father's extremely mischievous nature. Though the two mothers were surely weeping their sons heading off to school so quickly, Harry was sure it wouldn't be long before they accepted the relative peace that the two boys' absence would afford them. Neville Longbottom was the son of more longtime friends of Harry's parents, Frank and Alice Longbottom, both of whom worked as Aurors for the Ministry of Magic. During the height of power of the fallen Dark Lord, Voldemort, the Longbottoms had been attacked by Death Eaters, but thanks to the arrival of a few of their compatriots just in the nick of time, had avoided serious injury. Neville was as much a voice of reason as the group had, not having inherited the same predisposition to mischief as Harry and Stephan. Neville and Harry had originally met at a joint celebration of their fifth birthdays, given that they fell very close together and had almost immediately taken to each other. Unlike the other two boys in the trio however, Neville was built a bit stockier, and had dark brown hair and eyes. Though Neville was generally the more cautious one when Harry and Stephan's pranking plans got too far onto the wild side, he usually ended up involved in the mischief the other boys had planned.

Not spotting either of his two friends at first glance, Harry turned back to the large pack of red-heads just in time to see a young girl looking intently at him. Harry wasn't sure what to do at the time, so he nervously ran his hand through his hair and smiled at her, before waving. Harry continued watching her, as the girl smiled back shyly, and raised her hand in greeting. From the short distance he was away, Harry noticed that the girl appeared to be blushing as a result of their exchange. The red-head looked a little young, but Harry hoped she was in his year. Just as he was about to walk over and say hello however, he was clapped on both shoulders by two rough hands. "Oy, Harry!" said one, in a semi-baritone voice that he recognized as his friend Stephan Black's. Harry turned and punched Stephan playfully on the shoulder before turning to greet Neville, who had appeared behind them after bolting away from his parents. "Oy Nev, how's it?" After hearing Harry's greeting, Neville searched around nervously before responding. "It would be plenty better if my mum wasn't always over my shoulder with another of her last minute reminders. You know how she is. Bloody merciless," he replied, shaking his head in exasperation. Stephan threw his arms around the two other boys and chuckled as they made their way toward the train. "Bloody merciless? Sounds like what we're going to be eh, mates? The Marauders ride again! I can see it all clearly," Stephan stated, finishing in a dramatic voice as he gestured widely with his hands. Harry broke into a laugh at his friend's grandstanding, but quickly agreed. "Bloody right mate! I can't wait to get started!" Harry exclaimed. The three quickly made their way to the back of the train and stepped into the last compartment. Once inside, Stephan sat down heavily, almost throwing himself down against the seat and sighed. "Now all that's left to do is find a fourth."

After telling his family goodbye and convincing his little sister Ginny that she could see the boy who had waved at her when she came to Hogwarts next year, Ron Weasley boarded the train along with his brothers, the rambunctious twins, Fred and George, and their older brother Percy, a Gryffindor prefect, who Ron and the twins had nicknamed "Pompous Percy" not so affectionately after spending the summer listening to his rants about responsibility. Ron glanced down the aisle, seeing door after door that was closed. He carefully made his way down the corridor, searching for a place to sit for the ride to school. It seemed that all the compartments had been taken as he counted more and more with closed doors and at least four kids apiece inside. Finally, he reached the last two compartments, both of which had their doors still open. Ron cast a sidelong glance into the compartment on the left where he saw a girl and a boy engaged animatedly in conversation, their textbooks already laying open before them. If he had to, he figured he would take his chances, but he decided to at least glance at the other compartment first. He shut his eyes before turning, hoping that it wasn't full of a bunch of giggly girls. He'd had enough girly outbursts for the day with his sister after she saw some boy who had waved to her on the platform before he boarded. As he opened his eyes, wincing in preparation for disappointment, he was pleasantly surprised almost immediately. In this last compartment, Ron saw three boys who looked about his age talking in hushed tones about some plan of theirs. As he prepared to enter he overheard the black-haired one- well the black-haired one with blue eyes mention something to the others about needing to "find a fourth." With that, Ron got up his courage and stepped inside, shutting the compartment door behind him and sitting down next to the brown haired boy. "Maybe I can be a fourth?" Ron ventured. "I'm Ron Weasley."


	4. Meetings Better Avoided

Chapter 4 – Meetings Better Avoided

"You think so, do you?" Stephan started, raising his eyebrows and surveying the lanky boy that stood before you with a scrutinizing eye. Ron's ears flushed red almost immediately, his gaze tilting toward the floor as he sadly realized he must have made a mistake. Resigning himself to having to sit in the compartment with the two bookworms, he reached for the door handle, but was surprised when a hand grabbed arm. Following the arm, he saw its owner to be a medium-sized boy with messy black hair and emerald green eyes. Swallowing, he stared as the boy let go of his arm. "Don't mind Stephan", he started jovially, "he likes being a prat sometimes." Looking back at the boy who had first spoken, expecting some sort of retort, he was surprised to hear him break into laughter before extending his hand. "Right then. Now that you've heard the introduction of one of my biggest fans," Stephan spoke, casting a smirk back in Harry's direction, "I'm Stephan Black. That other prat is Harry Potter, and of course our friend, even in silence is Mr. Neville Longbottom." Noticing that Ron still seemed unsure of what to do, Harry spoke up. "Well if you're staying you might as well grab a seat. No point in standing. It's kind of a long trip." Ron promptly took his seat.

Expecting something more to be said, he was surprised to find the three boys deep in a whispered conversation. Ron didn't mean to eavesdrop, but growing up with six siblings, it came almost as second nature. The boy who had called himself Stephan threw a glance back at him, and then their whispers became even lower. They were good. All Ron could make out, despite the years he had spent perfecting this skill on his parents and brothers were broken bits of the dialogue. "We barely know…I mean we don't want…right, but he's…my mum and dad always vouched for them..." Ron was a bit lost, though it was clear enough that they were wondering whether or not to include him. At a lull in their quiet debate, Ron spoke up. "Err…so what were you talking about earlier needing a fourth?" Harry perked up immediately, staring fixedly back at the others. Stephan shrugged and slouched back in his seat, while Neville stayed leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Well like we were saying before you came in, we need a fourth. Our parents," Harry started, pointing and himself and Stephan, "were a couple of the Hogwarts Marauders. And we intend to carry on their legacy," he finished proudly. "Problem is," Neville interjected, "there was a bit of a situation and so there's only three of us right now. And so if we want to do it right, you know, how it was, we need a fourth." Ron wasn't sure what to say. It appeared as if the boys were planning something associated with this group, but he didn't know if he should get involved with it or not. Harry spoke up again. "Look, we're ready to have you as our fourth if you can answer one question right for us- are you a fan of pulling a good prank?" Ron beamed. He had been expecting something a little more complicated, but if they were planning to be a band of mischief makers- well, mum wouldn't like it- but Fred and George weren't dead yet he figured. "Bloody right I do!" he exclaimed, sitting back in his seat. While Neville's demeanor didn't change much, and Harry remained as warm as always, he noticed Stephan's disposition had become infinitely more positive, a wide smile emerging on his face.

Just as Ron was about to ask about what sorts of pranks they had planned, the compartment door slid open, revealing a bushy-haired girl and pompous looking boy who seemed to be carrying themselves with quite the air of authority. "Can we _help_ you?" Stephan asked immediately. The girl seemed a bit disgusted by the lack of manners that Stephan had displayed, she quickly replaced the look with a half smile. "Well I don't need any _help_" she started, "but I just saw all of you over here and though I'd introduce myself. I'm Hermione Granger and I'm going to be starting here this term. Oh and this is Ernie MacMillan," she finished, looking at the boy who had accompanied her. Stephan seemed to be looking her over the same way he had reviewed Ron when he had first entered. Leaning over to Harry, he whispered something that sounded like "talks a bit funny" and then snickered before straightening back up. Smirking, Harry rose. "Excuse me, I guess I've forgotten my manners, Hermione Granger. My name is Mr. Harry James Potter, and these are my esteemed associates, Mr. Stephan Thomas Black, Mr. Neville Issac Longbottom, and Mr. Ronald Weasley, whose middle name currently escapes me. Of course, we've already met _Ernie_ here," he spoke grandly, closing with a sweeping bow and falling to one knee before her. The other three boys smirked at Harry's show, noting that the girl seemed not to know how to respond.

Just as the silence started to become awkward, Harry winked at Stephan and Neville and spoke again. "Well Hermione, we're starting at Hogwarts too. If you'd rather join us than MacMillan here, grab a seat. Ernie's a bit of a bore if you know what I mean. All books and no fun at all." Ernie stiffened at this remark, while Hermione's expression soured visibly. "Of course," Stephan added, "if you'd rather help him start a book fair, go ahead." They immediately stood up to leave the compartment without saying a word, but just as she opened the door, Stephan pulled out his wand and muttered something, causing Ernie to fall flat on his face into the corridor, yelping loudly. Immediately doors shot open the length of the aisleway, and many of the students began muttering to each other, while still more pointed at Ernie on the ground and laughed. The boys in the compartment were laughing riotously and as he tried to get up, Harry flicked his own wand, sending him plopping back down onto her bottom, beet red. By this time, the students who had looked into the corridor were collapsing on each other in hysterics. As he started to get up a third time, Harry glanced at the other three boys with a wide grin before reaching to shut the door. Before they could do so however, a boy with well-trimmed blonde hair stuck his hand into the door.

"Forgive me for being late Potter, Black, Longbottom. You know how my father can be," he began, starting to enter before looking down at Ernie on the ground. "Oh, what have we here? I wouldn't have expected you three would have it in you. Though of course, if you can consort with a Weasley now, I guess there's not much you _wouldn't_ do is there?" he snorted, looking down his nose at Ron. Harry raised his wand threateningly in response to the statement. "Why don't you just sod off Malfoy?" Stephan and Neville stood as well, fixing their wands on the boy. Malfoy looked back down at MacMillan on the ground. "Well, I suppose we should get you out of the corridor shouldn't we?" he said, extending his hand down towards her. Surprised, Hermione was about to take his hand and thank him, when Malfoy pulled it back from her abruptly. "Right! As if I'd let you dirty my hand with your filth. This is a first- I may actually have a reason to applaud Potty, Blackey the Lackey, their pudgy goon Longbottom! No, I think it's better that blood traitors and trash be left in the streets," he finished venomously, storming back from where he'd come. "Take it back Malfoy!" Harry yelled down the corridor. "Now you're defending him Potter? I think it's a little late don't you, given the humiliation?"

Harry looked back at the others in the compartment sheepishly and extended his hand grudgingly to Ernie. Then focusing his attention on Hermione he grumbled loudly. "You've just had the pleasure of meeting the illustrious Draco Malfoy. Don't worry about him though, he's a scumbag." "Well, we'll get the slimeball back, don't worry about that," Stephan added, crossing his arms and scowling down the corridor disapprovingly. Scowling herself however, Hermione smacked Harry's hand away, apparently fuming. "Well you four are certainly no better, picking on Ernie just because you can. You're quite arrogant you know, and if you don't mind, I don't think I'll be associating with any of _you_ either!" she yelled, dragging Ernie back into their original compartment and slamming the door behind her. Neville let out a low whistle. "She's a real fireball eh Harry?" Harry shut their own door loudly. "A real prude more like," he grumbled, looking at the window as they crossed a high bridge, heading for a large castle in the distance. "Well at least it won't be long to Hogwarts," Stephan said, slouching back in his seat again. "Yup," Harry added, reaching for his suitcase on the rack above him before speaking to the other three friends in the compartment. "Well mates, we ought to get dressed in a half hour or so I suppose so we'll be ready and what not. Us Marauders should make nothing less a grand entrance."


	5. Sorting Them Out

Chapter 5 – Sorting Them Out

After hastily donning their robes, the four boys grabbed the belongings they had carried into the compartment with them and emerged into the packed corridor. "I swear I'm going to get that git back! Where the bloody hell is he?" Stephan asked angrily, squinting into the sea of students squeezing down the aisle to get off the train in search of Draco Malfoy. Seeing a shock of blonde pass him by, Stephan immediately cuffed the person on the shoulder.

"Hey you prat! Don't think you're going to get off easy!" he growled, poking the student in the back with his wand.

The blonde-haired kid turned around quickly, looking affronted. Unfazed, Stephan pushed the bewildered boy to the side, forcing his way through the crowd after muttering a quick apology for the mistaken identity.

By the time the Harry, Stephan, Neville, and Ron had gotten off the train however, very few students were still around. Looking out before them, they saw a very large man herding what appeared to be all the first year students toward boats filled with candles floating out on an enormous lake. As Harry and the others approached the man, who was now holding a torch his booming, throaty voice rang out to them. "Firs' years over 'ere! Yer takin' the boats to the castle!" Looking back out over the lake, Harry could see what looked like at least a hundred candles floating seemingly in mid-air over the lake. As they tossed their belongings roughly into the boat that the large man directed them to, Harry noticed that the water of the lake must have been very deep, because it was almost as black as the night sky above them.

"Bloody hell," Ron gasped as the boat began to carry them across the lake with a mind of its own. "This is brilliant! I'm never going to forgive mum for not teaching me magic earlier!"

Harry noticed his new red-haired friend's eyes were alight with excitement as he looked around. Neville shared a similar look on his own face, though he seemed to be shocked speechless, while Stephan was characteristically slouched, looking smug. Harry himself was some mixture of these reactions. As he looked up into the sky, it seemed to be almost out of a storybook. The stars shone brightly down on the first years as their magical transports carried them across the lake. The moon was shrouded almost halfway by a few wispy clouds that gave an eerie cast to the over-large white orb that looked bigger than Harry had ever seen it. Unfortunately, the ride was over much quicker than he had imagined it would be, and he was shocked from his flat-back position as the boat lurched onto the bank at the other side of the lake.

"Looks like everyone's headed up that trail over there," Neville remarked, pointing at the path of floating yellow and orange flames dancing up toward the castle. Lifting their few belongings out of the boat, the boys added their candles to the line stretching like a long snake before them.

The walk, they discovered, was easily more tedious than the journey across lake. As they headed over the final rise, seeing the large doors of the castle in some detail at last, Neville stuck his tongue out the side of his mouth in determination after inhaling a large amount of air. Ron wiped a bit of sweat from his brow.

"I guess this is how they find out if you're good enough to be in after all is it?" he asked bitterly. "Oh, the older ones can take carriages, but let's have the _first_ years trudge up the bloody cliffside!" Harry and Stephan chuckled. "Somebody needs to get in shape eh mate?" Harry said, playfully punching Ron on the arm. Startled, Ron almost fell over into an exhausted Neville, who barely avoided sliding backward down the steep slope they had just trudged up.

After apologizing very briefly to Neville, Ron turned back towards Harry. "I'm in perfect shape," he quickly defended. I'm just a bit hungry you know. I haven't got anything in me since those chocolate frogs back on the train. Get me some food at this feast they're supposed to be having and I'll be fine!" Harry chuckled. "Whatever mate. You're the one that ate half of them- and just a couple hours ago at that." Ron snorted. "Well, like my mum says, 'a growing boy can never have enough of a good meal.' "

As the four finally approached the great open doors before them, they noticed all their luggage was neatly stowed in an area marked "First Years – Pre-Sorting". On the other side of the expansive entranceway however, were four signs in various colors marking the different houses of Hogwarts: Gryffindor in red, Hufflepuff in yellow, Ravenclaw in blue, and Slytherin in green. A tall severe looking woman stood at the top of the stairs, her hair tied up in a tight bun, explaining to the other first years where to go. Once the group finally reached her, she exhaled in a sigh of relief.

"Ah, the last group. Head down the hall to the right there and you'll be in the Great Hall. That's where we'll be having the Welcoming Feast and the Sorting Ceremony. Following the woman's directions, the boys wound up following a group of slightly older-looking students through another set of gargantuan doors and into a loud room with four tables set in long rows with banners of different colors hanging above them. Grabbing the last seats available, Harry was pleased to notice that they were sitting under a red and gold banner emblazoned with a large lion.

"We're sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table it looks like!" he said excitedly, pointing upward at the banners above them. "I'm definitely going to be in Gryffindor. Both my parents were, and my dad's family goes way back." Neville and Ron quickly made similar remarks, though it took Ron a while to recall that his mother had also been in Gryffindor, which elicited much teasing from Harry and Neville. Harry thought Stephan had been uncharacteristically quiet during the conversation, and noticing him glancing anxiously between the banners above his head and the green ones across the room, Harry patted him on the back.

"You'll be in Gryffindor for sure mate. I wouldn't have a worry if I were you. Your mum and dad were Gryffindors through and through." Stephan seemed skeptical. "But Harry you know about dad's whole family. Slytherin, the whole lot of them," he whispered, not wanting Ron to overhear. Just as Harry got ready to reassure his best friend once again however, an older wizard with a long beard wearing oddly decorated purple robes interrupted them with a strangely loud tapping of his fork against his glass.

As the man rose to speak, the entire hall's buzz of conversation almost immediately ceased. "Aha. I you will excuse me for just a moment. Before we begin, I realize that you all have quite a strong desire to eat after the long journey you have made to join us, so I will be brief. This very morning I was pleased to find the last words of wisdom given to me by one of my greatest mentors, and so naturally I felt that I should pass them on to you. They are as follows: chorus, daffodil, fossil, and leap. Thank you."

With that, the strange man sat down at the long table set at the front of the hall and made the first cut into his meat. Noticing the students were all still looking at him, and most as if he had grown another head, he smiled and spoke again after taking a bite. "Just as delicious as the wonderful Welcoming Roast we had in 1949." As if the mere fact that this man had made the statement made it fact, almost the entire hall dove into their meals before the buzz of chatter once again built up to fill the room.

Most of the conversation throughout the meal was centered around the sorting. A number of students sitting nearby Harry and his friends began fidgeting nervously, sitting on their hands, or turning ghastly colors of white as the students all over the hall began to finish their meals. Listening in with mild interest, Harry quickly picked up all the usual myths that first years were told about the sorting. A young black boy who was sitting a few seats down for example was checking his head very meticulously with a nearby girl's mirror. Before he could stop himself, Harry broke out into laughter.

"What are you _doing_?" he asked incredulously. Having been seen, the boy straightened immediately and handed the mirror back the brown-haired girl next to him. "I'm checking my head for dust of course! A sixth year told me that if they caught me with a dirty head during the sorting they'd kick me out. My mum was pretty proud to find out I was going to a place like this so I can't let her down."

Harry's eyes bugged out at this, while Neville and Stephan chuckled loudly. "That's a bunch of nonsense," Stephan scoffed. "They're just going to slap a hat on your head, it might talk to you a bit, and then it'll set you straight with the sorting. They don't have time to check for specks of dust or anything else ridiculous like that." Though he seemed a bit more relaxed after hearing such a confident rebuttal, the look on the boy's face told Harry that he hadn't taken it completely seriously.

Brushing off his head once again before turning around, the boy said "well, maybe that's right, but like I said, I'm lucky to even be here, so I'm not taking my chances." Turning back to his empty plate, Harry flinched when he received a sharp poke to the ribs. Looking in the direction it had come from, Harry found himself face to face with Ron. "What'd you do that for?" he asked grouchily. "Sorry mate," Ron said, his ears once again starting to grow red. "I was just wondering when you thought there were going to start the sorting ceremony."

Before Harry could answer however, the woman who had given them directions about where to go had appeared again, this time with a large wooden stool, and a beat up looking old hat, which she set perfectly in the center of the area in front that had before been occupied by the staff table. Tapping her throat with her hand, she began to speak.

"Ahem. If I could have your attention please, we are about to begin this year's Sorting. First years, I am going to call out your names in alphabetical order, you will come up here, I will place the hat on your head, and then you will go to the table of the House to which you have been assigned. Before we begin however, it is Hogwarts tradition to allow the hat to share a bit of its wisdom with our students, new and old."

Almost immediately, the mouth on the hat twitched, almost smirking, before breaking into speech.

_Perhaps you find me ugly-- a simple, stupid hat,  
But quite soon you will find I am much more than that._

_When I was created, my makers' magic done,_

_They asked if I would help them with their student-- sorting every one._

_Each would teach a fourth they told me, showing me their test_

_So that each would get their favorites, different from the rest_

_Gryffindor- so bold, so strong, with courage never waning_

_Ravenclaw- with brains and wit, no problem e'er restraining_

_Hufflepuff- whom none could question was loyal to the end_

_Slytherin- gathered all, who were fullest of ambition_

_But fear me not and wear me, before all seated here,_

_And my wise eye will tell me, what will mark you o'er the years_

_Your safety is a sure thing, there's no teeth in my mouth_

_And where your road takes you from here is yours to figure out!_

As the hat finished its vibrant speech, the woman stood again and taking her place behind the stool, addressed them once again. "Without further delay, we will have our first student, Abbott, Hannah. The girl it turned out, was promptly assigned to Hufflepuff. Neville shook his head. "Well you can't be jealous of her. Being first and all and a Hufflepuff on top of it."

While the rest of the older students talked, most of the sorting proceeded with nervous silence from the first years. Harry only paid real attention to a his own group, and a few other names that caught his attention. He was greeted with a nervous expression from his usually supremely confident friend as the woman called out Black, Stephan. The nervousness was for nothing though, just as Harry predicted. After a brief (Harry guessed a twenty second) pause, the hat bellowed "GRYFFINDOR!" As he walked back toward them, Harry could see Stephan was all smiles.

The next to be sorted that Harry heard was the girl from the train, Hermione Granger. The four boys poked each other as she bolted up to the stool enthusiastically. "She'll be a Ravenclaw for sure that one," Stephan predicted. "All that know-it-all attitude, and hanging around with that goody-two-shoes MacMillan, she's a Ravenclaw."

"Besides," Ron added, "she and that MacMillan kid were reading the bloody textbooks over in their compartment when I saw them. Everyone knows that no matter what the teachers say, Ravenclaw is the House for all the bookworms."

Harry turned his attention back to the stool, where Hermione sat with the hat on her head. So far, she was the longest wait for a decision the hall had had, though that wasn't saying much, as the others had been almost instantaneous. All told, it took the hat a couple of minutes to decide. When the verdict came, all four of the boys' mouths hung wide open. The hat had shouted "GRYFFINDOR!" As she came to sit with the rest of the Gryffindors, she made it a point to glare haughtily at Stephan. "Great," he groaned. "See what it's done to her? Now we're going to have to share a common room with _that_."

Next up for Harry's band of brothers was Neville, who after being called, turned an odd mixture of light green and his normal skin color. Neville certainly took his time getting up there, but once he sat down and got the hat on his head, it quickly bellowed "GRYFFINDOR!" and he seemed to instantly regain his color.

Almost directly following Neville was Draco Malfoy, who Stephan continued to survey with contempt as he approached to be sorted. Malfoy's too was a rather unsurprising result, being one of the fastest yet to be sorted into Slytherin.

As the names wore on, and things became more comfortable amongst the first years, Harry had wound up in a conversation with the young black boy, who he now knew as Dean Thomas, about the Muggle sport of football. From even their short chatter, Harry had now been regaled by Dean about the West Ham Hammers, Dean's team of choice, who from Dean's perspective were the best team to grace the pitch with their presence each and every season. Harry noted though that the absence of mentioning accomplishments outside specific games seemed to point to the fact that the club might be a little less impressive than Dean was letting on. Nevertheless, he was enjoying his conversation, and trying to learn a little about the rules, as his new friend gesticulated wildly to show different techniques and violations. Just as Dean was about to mention the Hammers newest off-season signings which were "sure to put us atop everything" Harry was interrupted by the woman's stern voice calling out to him. "Potter, Harry".

Harry certainly hadn't been expecting to be nervous at all, but when he first stood up and saw everyone staring at him, he couldn't help but feel a tug of fear inside his stomach. Looking back at Stephan, who flashed him a knowing smirk, Harry began to make his way toward the stool up front. Gradually however, as everyone turned back to their whispered conversations for the most part, Harry resumed his usual confident gait. Sauntering up to the woman holding the hat, he quickly accepted it from her, sat on the stool, and planted it firmly on his head. Though his father had told him that the hat often spoke to people, Harry was still a bit disarmed to hear its voice in his head.

_Another Potter are you? Well, I remember your parents well. One brave enough to follow the rules, and the other brave enough to constantly break them. You though, you're decidedly your father's son I can tell. Already planning mischief. I'd have expected no less. Well, as fun as it's been, I think I've given you a grand enough pause- _"GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry walked back to the Gryffindor table and his cheering group of friends in a bit of a daze. He'd expected to be sorted into Gryffindor, but certainly not that the hat would know so much about him.

The rest of the sorting ceremony went without event, Ron being the last of the four friends to be sorted into Gryffindor by the hat. Cheers erupted from almost every table however once the final name was called and Blaise Zabini was sorted into Slytherin House. As the woman in charge of the sorting carried off the stool and hat, the four boys, and especially Ron, were ecstatic to note the arrival of dessert on their plates.

Once the students had finished their meal, the old man who had opened the ceremonies rose to spoke again. "Before you are released to the care of your prefects and sent to your common rooms, I would like to make a few remarks. First, to those of you with us for your first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, welcome. And to those of you rejoining us yet again, welcome back. For those of you who are not familiar with me, my name is Albus Dumbledore, and I am the Headmaster of this fine school, though sometimes with all the tricks it seems to play on me, I am left to wonder indeed at who controls things," he spoke, smiling as his comment elicited more than a few knowledgeable chuckles from staff and students alike. "Nevertheless, I have been asked to advise you that the Forbidden Forest is off-limits to all students, and that our caretaker, Mr. Argus Filch, has posted a new list of forbidden items on the door of his officer for your perusal. Thank you, and enjoy the night- for tomorrow, the journey begins anew!"

As Dumbledore sat down once again, the Gryffindor prefects, one of whom Harry had learned over dinner was none other than Ron's older brother Percy, began to round up the first years to lead them to their dormitories. Percy Weasley, a tall, wiry boy who wore horn-rimmed glasses, began calling out to the students loudly. "All first years! Do _not_ attempt to go off on your own. You will be following _me_ tonight as I lead you to our common room. Keep in mind of course that if you do not choose to follow along, the castle will either lead you astray, or at best, you will be locked out of Gryffindor Tower by out portrait, guardian, and password keeper. Now let's move along!"


End file.
